Counting Stars
by otterwarrior16
Summary: It took him 24 minutes to shut off the light, 10 minutes to lock his door, and 2 minutes to make the call that saved his life. Taub/Kutner friendship. Oneshot.


_So this is my first House fanfiction. Taub/Kutner friendship. :)_

It was dark. The door shut behind him with a click and he locked it automatically, just before flipping on the light switch. He dropped his backpack haphazardly in the corner and kicked his shoes off, not bothering to see where they landed. It was a process he went through every time he came home.

It felt pathetic.

Kutner hated feeling pathetic, and he hated the way he checked at least 20 times to make sure his door was locked before he went to bed. Because that was definitely pathetic.

He shuffled into the kitchen, yawned, got out a cup and poured water in it. It was cold in his apartment, so he figured he'd forgotten to put the heat on, again. He drained his glass and stood there, unsure of himself for a moment. Because for a second, he hadn't even remembered what he was doing in the kitchen.

He'd come in late that day and it was already 12:36 a.m.

The bedroom was his next stop and he sat down on the bed and looked at the floor. The boring floor that he'd always wanted to change but never had the motivation to carry out. He hadn't turned the light on, but the light was still on in the hallway, shining dimly into the room, glowing just enough for him to see.

Kutner was scared. He wasn't sure why he was scared, or why he was shaking slightly. He clenched his teeth in frustration and stood up, pacing from his desk, back to his bed again. It had always been like this. Every once in a while, life came down on him for being too happy. For trusting too much, for smiling too much. What the hell, who knew why it happened?

50 minutes later Kutner had managed to pull himself together a bit and force himself to turn the light off in the hallway. These types of days he usually didn't sleep and he kept the lights on, but he wanted to try sleeping. He was sitting on his bed once more when he started shaking again. Perfect.

He stood up suddenly and peered under the bed, before frantically checking each and every drawer in his room. He was breathing heavily and on the verge of panic by the time he found the old shoe box. It had three items in it. Simple items really.

A lighter. A picture. A gun.

He lifted the gun out with trembling hands and stared at it, his mouth parted slightly as he panted. It was more from fear then weariness now. His gaze drifted from the weapon to the picture, lying at the bottom of the box slightly under the lighter. His heart thudded dully in his chest, his head hurt. His eyes stung.

It was a woman, a man, and a little boy, at a shop around a worn out table. The boy sat on his man's lap, smiling at the camera boldly, while the woman and man grinned shyly. A customer had taken that picture at Kutner's father's request.

A sudden, inexplicable stab of anger and he'd lit the picture on fire with the lighter. It burned while he cried and soon, only a little pile of ashes was left on the boring floor.

He thought he'd feel better the moment his last, little connection with them was gone. He didn't. Mechanically he swept the ashes up and threw them away, all in the dark. He didn't want the light on, or he'd never gather enough courage to turn it off again.

He found himself sitting on his bed again, the gun in his lap, his eyes red from crying. And he realized he definitely didn't feel better because he hadn't gotten rid of every connection with them.

The gun reminded him of them. He reminded him of them. And he was frightened because he realized he was probably going to do something really stupid out of panic and a bit of depression.

He didn't bother checking if it was loaded. He lifted the gun to his head, put his shaking finger on the trigger and sat there, quiet, motionless. His hand dropped. He looked at his dresser, where he'd laid his cell phone. He laid the gun down and walked to the dresser, picked up the cell phone and stared at it, before dialing the number he'd memorized but never called.

It only took two minutes for his shaking fingers to punch in the right numbers.

* * *

Taub hated his ringtone. Very much. Especially at 2 in the morning. He sat up and snatched it from the coffee table. He and his wife had gotten into a fight and he'd been subject to the couch. It was probably best. Now she wouldn't be woken up by an annoying phone call, probably from House to give him misery.

It was an anonymous number though, not House's. He debated for a split second whether to answer or not, then decided any phone call at 2 in the morning had to have some importance. He flipped it open and held it to his ear.

"Hello," he said roughly.

There was a static sound, a sigh Taub concluded and then a hesitant voice.

"Taub?"

At first, Taub thought he was mistaken. It sounded like Kutner, but he'd never heard Kutner sound like that. He didn't think Kutner could sound like that. He sounded scared.

"Kutner?" Taub said questioningly, instantly on alert. Why would his colleague be calling him at 2 in the morning sounding like that?

"Taub…" Kutner said again, his voice trailing off in a half sob.

"What's wrong?" He asked, concerned but trying to disguise it from seeping into his voice.

There was no answer at first, just another static sigh.

"I want to die," said Kutner in a very broken, very un-Kutner like tone.

Taub stood up, immediately understanding why Kutner had called him.

"I'm coming over, okay. Don't do anything stupid," he warned, already walking towards the door. He tripped over his shoes on the way and put them on while he was at it. His jacket he grabbed before leaving. Kutner was still on the phone with him, though he hadn't said anything and neither had Taub.

Taub got in his car and started the engine, before speaking again.

"You haven't done anything?"

"No,"

"Good," Taub drove faster then he would've normally dared, all the while his mind at odds with him. Kutner wanting to die? It was an unheard of thought. The cheerful doctor had never shown any signs of being depressed, had never shown one tiny sign of doing any such thing as suicide.

He'd only been to Kutner's house once, to drive him home, but he'd never been inside. He parked his car outside and entered the entryway. He walked to Kutner's number and stood before the door. He sighed and spoke cautiously into the phone, which had heard little action.

"I'm here,"

The phone beeped. Taub looked at the screen. Call ended.

A moment later he heard the click of the lock and the door was opened a millimeter.

"I think I'm okay now," Kutner said quietly. Taub quickly put his foot in front of the door to keep it from closing.

"I just drove all the way over here. Let me in,"

Kutner hesitated, but the door opened. Taub walked in. The moment he was inside Kutner closed the door forcefully, locking it with a quick, nervous twist of his fingers.

Taub looked at him, at his pale face, the wide slightly puffy eyes, his shaking hands. Kutner stared back, then turned and walked into the kitchen. Taub followed, still getting used to the dark apartment. He found a light switch in the kitchen and flipped it on.

"Turn it off!" Kutner shouted at the sudden brightness. Taub quickly shut it off.

"Okay, okay," he said, trying to calm the obviously distraught Kutner. He heard what sounded like a chair being pulled back and then Kutner dropping into it. His eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and he could see the outline of the chair. Taub walked cautiously forward and sat into it quietly. Kutner sat across from him, his head in his hands. It was too dark to see details, but Taub could see that.

"Why?" Taub asked after a moment of silence. Kutner didn't move.

"I don't know. Isn't that crazy?" He mumbled.

"Are you depressed? You're parents, what? There has to be a reason," Taub countered. Kutner looked up then.

"I don't know," he said helplessly, rubbing his eyes with his palms, "But it took me 24 minutes to shut off the light and 10 minutes to make sure I'd locked the door,"

"So it's panic?"

Kutner drew in a deep breath.

"I'm scared,"

Taub leaned forward and took Kutner's hand in his own.

"Thanks for calling," Taub said. Kutner nodded, smiling faintly.

"Right," he said, before his slight grin faded, "Please don't tell anyone at the hospital,"

At that, Taub hesitated. After all, Kutner probably needed some professional help. But it would be awkward waltzing into Cuddy's office to tell her the hospitals "Professional Defibrillist" needed medical help after a suicide attempt.

"So you didn't hurt yourself?" Taub asked, ignoring Kutner's pleading.

"No,"

"What were you going to do?" Taub asked cautiously, not wanting to make Kutner upset. However, he seemed to be doing better already with Taub's presence.

"I put the gun to my head," Kutner said simply, pulling his hand away from Taub's grip and leaning back in his chair.

"You have a gun?"

Kutner nodded. They sat there in comfortable silence, until Taub broke it.

"I'll stay here for the rest of the night and we'll head into work tomorrow. You better act your best, or House will definitely notice," he said, standing up and looking down at the still seated Kutner, a wave of pity rushing over him. Kutner was an amazing actor for no one, not even House, to notice anything.

"Has this ever happened before?"

Kutner stood up and shrugged.

"Not quite this far, but yeah. Common, you can sleep on the couch."

* * *

The two headed into work the next morning, Taub driving and Kutner sitting quietly in the passenger seat. He was still looking nervous, and paler than usual. Taub almost hoped House would notice something was wrong.

The moment they entered the hospital, Kutner transformed into the normal him. He just instantly had a happier countenance, and once more Taub found it hard to believe that he'd seen Kutner completely different the night before.

They entered the office. House and Foreman were already there. Thirteen was missing, but that wasn't wholly unusual.

"You guys are exactly 10 minutes late," House stated, staring intently at Taub and then at Kutner. His gaze lingered a bit on the latter.

"I overslept watching Star Wars," Kutner said, smiling as he sat on one of the chairs and shifted some papers around. House nodded.

"Right. Now, we've got a 20 year old patient…"

Taub sat down, half listening to House, half watching Kutner scribble notes down. He was already in his thinking mode, and Taub had to admit the guy came up with several good diagnoses. And he realized how glad he was that Kutner had called him

Then he decided that he'd program Kutner's number into his phone, just in case.

_**This is what I would've liked it to have been. Kutner still experiencing depression and a near death experience...without the death part. It would've developed the character while keeping him on the show. I hope Kutner and Taub aren't out of character (**If I've made any mistakes regarding place, time, etc., I've not watched the episode...so I'm going off of what I read) _

**Oh_ well. Please R&R!_**


End file.
